The Lark
by Miss Pontmercy
Summary: Cosette makes an seemingly harmless trip outside her garden and comes in contact with someone from her past. The results are disasterous, and her innocent nature may never recover. Warning: rape, language.
1. The Woods

Marius was late. Marius was never late. So maybe he wasn't really late, and she was just out in the garden early. All Cosette knew was that she had been waiting her for at least ten minutes, and she wanted Marius to arrive already! How hard it was to go whole day without seeing each other!

Eager to surprise him, she got up from her seat at the bench and walked over to the gate. She wiggled loose the bar and stepped out of the garden. She would surprise him from out here… he would certainly be astonished!

The man was waiting in the bushes, looking at her beautiful form in the moonlight. The little slut, waiting here like that. Just like her mother, taking men in after dark. Well he would show her. Creeping out from the shadows, he stepped out onto the street behind her.

Cosette felt an arm grab her around her waist, and before she could scream, a hand close over her mouth. She twisted and thrashed, trying to drag the hand away from her mouth, but it did not budge. She felt something cool and sharp against her neck and instantly stilled in terror, petrified.

"I'd stop that if I were you, poppet. I am just as willing to slit your throat as I am to fuck you… and mark my words, I'll do both tonight."

Her heart was beating so hard that it threatened to come out of her chest. The whispery voice was not one she could name, but it was strangely familiar, as though it was the voices in her nightmares. She felt something inside of her stir, as though an old memory was telling her to flee, in addition to the rest of her body. But her mind was telling her to stop thrashing. Maybe if she waited still long enough he would let her go.

He began to drag her in the direction of the woods across the road, and her idea of staying still fled her mind as quickly as it had come. She dug her heels into the ground and tried to elbow him, but he just stomped his foot hard on her ankles, causing a _crack. _She felt one ankle break, and the other painfully twist.She cried out. Tears pored from her eyes at the sharp pain, and then even more as he slapped her across the face for crying out.

"No one's coming for you, slut!"

She couldn't walk anymore, and could do no more resisting with her legs. The pain was too great. He easily dragged her into the woods and pushed her up against a tree. He took his hand from her mouth again, and she yelled. "_Help! Help me!"_ But the man whose face she could not see just pressed the knife to her throat again.

"I'd shut up if I were you, girly. I'm going to get a fuck out of you, whether you're dead or alive. But you might as well _enjoy it._" He laughed a terrible, thin laugh, and tears pored further from her face. She was shaking so badly that her vision was shaking and unfocused.

He took a piece of rope from his pocket and tied her hands behind the tree, securing her there. The ropes cut into her wrists. She had to support her own weight, and she tried to stand on her non-broken ankle; it was swelled so badly that her leg was shaking. But she could not fall against the tree. He took his knife and cut open her dress, corset, and chemise, leaving her unable to move and completely exposed. Her face was flushed with shame and hatred, and her whole body was covered in a cold sweat from fear. Her neck was slightly bleeding from the shallow cut the knife had given her. What hope was there?

The man's hands grabbed her breasts and squeezed them painfully, and she heard a hungry moan. _This can't last must longer…_ she hoped. Then she felt her skirts being tugged at. Despite her protesting ankles, she snapped her legs shut and tried to kick at him. He would not touch her there.

"No, no… _Don't touch me!_" But he forced her legs open, and his hand went all the way up until he felt between her legs. She had never felt so much hatred, so much anger, and so much humiliation. She felt so violated that she would be happy to be completely alone for the rest of her life. The tears pored ever faster as he stroked her painfully hard, and she felt his fingers thrust inside her. "There we go… that's what I want…"

"NO!" she screamed as loud as she could. "Get your hands off of-" He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head back against the tree, causing her to see stars even in the darkness. She could barely stay conscious, and she only felt his hands continue their exploration between her legs. She closed her eyes trying to hold back her tears and turned her head up toward the heavens, silently praying for this to end.

But she knew that no one would hear her.


	2. A Familiar Face

She closed her eyes, giving up. Tears fought their way through her closed eyelids, and spilled down her cheeks. Hardly daring to think about it, she thought about all the things she had wanted to do, and even her innermost fantasies that would now never happen. She even ventured to think about the warmer, gentler hands she had craved, late in the night when she was alone in bed, to be touching her.

He was muttering something, and she tried with everything she had not to hear, but she heard anyway.

"The lark..." he was saying in that familiar voice from her nightmares. "Not such a songbird now, are we?"

_The lark,_ she thought, knowing the name. Why did she know it?

But then she heard something russel, and everything in her body froze, hoping against hope that what she had heard was not the man's clothing. And then-

"Get _AWAY FROM HER!"_ she heard a yell, and felt the man being pulled roughly off her. She heard a grunt, and listened as it sounded like he was thrown to the ground. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice was low and harsh, different than she'd ever heard it before.

_Marius. _He was here. _No. He'll get killed!_ But she was saved… She couldn't see what was happening, she only heard thumping noises and painful-sounding whimpers. She heard rustling of leaves as someone got up and ran off. She heard someone follow.

"Get _back here!"_ she heard a cry.

Marius chased after this man, this despicable, disgusting man, and he realized he had never truly hated anyone in his life. This was the first, and he would happily kill this man, bring him back to life, only to kill him again. This man thrashed at Marius with his knife, and even made contact with his upper arm, but it was as though Marius didn't feel it. He punched him, threw him onto the ground, and kicked at him, but the man wriggled away and ran off. Marius finally caught him, and the moonlight fell upon his face.

It was the face he was supposed to be looking for, the face of the man he was supposed to owe everything to, and the very man he had already seen try to injure her. At the time he had tried to keep her safe without this man, this snake, be punished, but that wouldn't happen now. This was inexcusable. The very shock of it sent his mind reeling.

Maris gave an indiscernible cry, and felt himself freeze. He snapped out of his stupor a second later, and made a mad grab for the man, his pause had been a second too long. A well-aimed fist made contact with Marius' nose. It knocked him dizzy, and he felt blood pour out of his nostrils. He heard the sound of feet running off, and he couldn't make sense of where he went. The pain of his nose and face was causing the forest around him to spin, and he saw stars. He tried running forward, but realized he couldn't even tell up from down. He had lost him.

"_AHHH!" _he cried, and punched a nearby tree, only to bloody his knuckles. Swearing, he leaned against a tree to get his bearings before trying to find where Cosette was. _How _dare _he touch her,_ Marius thought. _How badly is she hurt?_

After a few moments when the stars had dulled, he could make out the light from the stars and moon, the same lights he had used the night before to look at Cosette with complete peace. But nevertheless, they aided in him finding the footprints he had made in running further into the woods, and he turned to go back.

Cosette had heard his cry, and she was panicking again. _Did he hurt him? Did he stab him?_She wanted to kill this man. She could have killed him for doing this to her, but if he hurt Marius… oh! The world had grown silent, and she realized she preferred hearing noises coming from the deeper in the forest. The silence was foreboding, and all she could hear was the _thump_ of her heartbeat and the shallow gasps of her breath.

After long moments of silence, her vision was spinning and the world growing less and less tangible, but she still heard footsteps coming her way. It was the man, she knew, intent on finishing her off.

"Who's there? Get away from me- don't touch me!" she cried, trying to put as much strength into her words as she had left. Her voice rang oddly in the night. It sounded loud and shrill against the silence of moments before.

"Shh… Cosette, it's me, it's just Marius." She heard the words softly spoken, and could hear him trying to control his voice. He didn't want to scare her. She heard him come closer.

"Marius! I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- he made me-"

"Cosette, I know," she heard Marius' voice shaking. The moon came out from behind the clouds for the second time that night, and Marius saw Cosette. Her face was dark with embarrassment, and her whole chest was exposed. He turned his eyes away, and he felt them fill with tears. Her lip was bleeding. He wiped his hand across his own bloody face, and brushed the tears from his face. Cosette could barely see him; she only saw him turn away and reach into his pocket. He went behind the tree and took a small knife out, cutting her loose from the tree. She swayed dangerously because of the broken ankle, and he caught her. She leaned awkwardly against him, her legs shaking in pain, while still trying to cover herself up. She collapsed onto the ground, unable to support even a little weight, and he removed his coat and wrapped her in it, buttoning it all the way down.

"How badly are you hurt? How… much did he do? Where does it hurt? Can you walk?" he stumbled over these questions, desperate to know if she would be alright.

"I don't know-" she spoke through tears, "He just grabbed me…He hurt my ankles, I can't walk… he tore my dress…" Marius gave an unintentional growl-type noise as he heard her begin to sob. "Marius...I just want to go inside. Please take me inside."

He lifted her into his arms, and the next time he looked down, her eyes were closed. He said her name, and when she didn't respond he gathered that she had passed out. He just ran faster, now in a panic. The night curved all around him, and all he wanted to do was find that man and break his neck.

He kicked the broken bar of her garden aside, but had to put Cosette down in order to get them both through it. When he had collected her again, she ran to the french doors she usually came out of to meet him, and pounded on them, waited a minute, and pounded on them again.

He saw someone appear at the window and then heard footsteps. The door swung open to reveal a short woman, looking angry at the late night interruption. As soon as she saw what Marius was carrying, her eyes seemed to bug out of his head. She shrieked.

"Get her father," Marius stuttered out, and the woman ran off, leaving the door open for them. He walked inside Cosette's house for the first time, and walked only a few steps until he saw a chaise lounge he could lay her down upon. Despite his mind being elsewhere, he noticed that her house smelled the same way as she did. Warm and sweet.

He heard footsteps behind him, and he saw the large, peaceful, white-haired man fro the Luxembourg that Marius had grown to revere in a slightly fearful way. But the man did not look peaceful now. His face had patches of red on it, and he was livid. His eyes seemed to burn.

"What did you do to her?" he asked seeming to bark and growl, hatred dripping from his words. To Marius, the man seemed faintly animistic.

"Nothing! Not enough… I got here too late… a man… he attacked her… and I ran after him, but he got away…!"

Valjean then truly looked over at the boy, with his shirtsleeve torn open and an open wound on his arm, a bruise forming around his eye. Cosette was laying on the chaise lounge, wrapped in a battered man's jacket that matched the condition of the rest of the boy's clothing. He realized that if he had done this to her, he most likely would not have carried her back inside, fetched him, and given her his jacket.

"Tell me exactly what happened," he said firmly.

"I was walking down the street to see Cos- your daughter-"

"How do you know my daughter?"

Marius' heart skipped a beat. What should he say? _Best be honest_, he decided. "Monsieur, I mean no disrespect- I swear- but your daughter and I have been meeting in your garden every night for the past month. We've done nothing dishonorable, I swear on my life. I'd... do anything for her."

Valjean tried not to, but he believed it. "Tell me what happened." He pushed the more shocked and curious thoughts from his brain, banishing anything trivial for later. He needed to know the important things first.

"I was walking down your street and I heard a small cry, a woman, but I didn't think anything of it. She could have been laughing. But then I heard a sound of a man speaking- angrily, it sounded, and no one's ever out on this street at night. Then I heard another scream- louder this time. It sounded like 'help!' and I recognized Cosette's voice…" he closed his eyes tightly. "I remember looking all around as though I would see something, but then I snapped out of it and ran in the direction of hr voice, and where I kept hearing noises in the woods. Then I saw them- and he had her tied to a tree and he was leaning over her…!" Marius' voice began shaking again. "If only I had gotten here earlier, none of this would have happened… he had ripped her dress- that's why she's in the coat- and he was about to… about to… well, I pulled him off her. He ran off, and I ran after him, but I was too slow. I waited too long; I didn't get my hands on him when I had the chance. And he got away."

Valjean was speechless. The old animistic natures he thought he had abandoned a long time ago where coming back to him. He wanted to rip out this man's throat. What gave him the nerve to touch his daughter?

"What did you do then?"

"I cut the ropes and she fell over. He had done something to her ankles, I think." Marius tried to hide the tears in his eyes, and the shaking in his voice, but again it wasn't working. "She was mortified- ashamed, as though it were her fault- I gave her my coat, and I think she went into some sort of shock, and I carried her inside. But I saw the man's face." Valjean's eyes snapped to Marius' face.


	3. A Father's Love

"I don't know if you know him, Monsieur. A man named Thenardier."

Marius' voice only met silence for a few moments. His words hung heavily in the air, but Monsieur Fauchelevent said nothing. Marius looked carefully over him, and the only change in his demeanor was that his knuckles had gone white, gripping the back of a chair.

Suddenly, he turned away, running a large hand through his white hair in anguish, muttering things Marius could not hear. He caught a few words, but he did not realize what they could mean.

"Once again, he's found her..." he muttered. Marius only stared in confusion.

After he did not turn back around, Marius turned his attention to Cosette. She was sleeping now, it seemed. She looked peaceful and even happy. He knew that wouldn't last long: as soon as she woke up she would remember everything that happened to her that night, and she would be horrified...

"It's all my fault," he whispered. "If only I had gotten here earlier! Now she's hurt." Marius barely even realized he was speaking aloud. "I want to kill him...!"

"Stop it!" Valjean barked sternly. Marius jumped, looking up at the man who so intimidated him. "That's not what she needs to hear right now. Do you really think she needs more violence around her! Now get a handle on yourself."

He eyed Marius' shaking form, and his bloody arm and nose. Valjean rummaged through a cabinet and tossed a rag to Marius, motioning to the washbasin in the corner.

"Clean yourself up."

Marius did as he was told, feeling ashamed. He didn't want Monsieur Fauchelevent to think he couldn't handle himself- but when he thought of someone hurting Cosette like that, it was all he could do not to scream.

"Will you please go call for a doctor? Do you know where to find one?"

Marius nodded. "I'll be right back."

With one more look at Cosette, he left.

Jean Valjean sighed, feeling a crushing internal pain that threatened to envelope him. He slowly made his way to the chaise lounge, where he sat down next to his daughter.

"Cosette," he whispered, just to say her name.

In less than an hour, he had learned that his daughter's life had been threatened and that she had been attacked and violated by the very man who had abused her as a child. He also learned that she had been carrying on a romance behind his back, when he thought that she had no had no secrets from him. He thought they kept nothing from each other.

Now, knowing that Cosette was in love with someone hardly bothered him at all. He wished that things were normal. He longed to be able to agonize over Cosette's love affair. However, now, he was agonizing over something much worse.

She looked so calm then, and Valjean dreaded waking her up. She was happy here, sleeping and dreaming. How could he wake her up and make her suffer?

When he thought about all that had happened to her, he felt his old instincts come over him, and he once again felt animalistic and cruel. He thought those thoughts had left him. He thought he had left behind his violent tendencies when he left behind his name, but apparently that was not so. He felt the old Jean Valjean screaming from inside of him, threatening to destroy and aching to crawl out.

He longed to kill.

The minutes he sat at her side seemed endless, and he could not say if it had been three hours or thirty minutes before he heard a knock and the young man had returned. Valjean realized he did not know his name.

He opened the door, and a steely-haired doctor followed the dark-haired boy inside. Valjean and the young man rushed back to Cosette, who had just turned over in her sleep. Her hands were cupped beneath her head, like a child. She muttered drowsily and buried her face into the sleeve of the coat.

She murmured something else, and they both leaned inadvertantly in to listen.

"Marius..." she whispered, before turning over again.

Valjean leaned back in slight horror. He turned to his left and saw who was presumably Marius staring at his daughter with a most curious expression on his face.

So it was true. She really was in love.

Valjean decided right then and there that he did not like the man. He was self-conscious and pompous at the same time, something difficult to achieve. And Valjean could testify that the two qualities were not ones that were effective for impressing people. The man was, in fact, not a man but a boy. His shoulders were slumped and he looked like he was hiding from something. He looked too dreamy, like his head was in the clouds and he enjoyed the company of his own mind more than the company of other people. Whereas Cosette loved to be around people...

_Well, there really isn't that much way to tell, is there?_ he thought guiltily. _She's barely been around anyone. Now she's gone and found someone to be with, without your help!_

He shook the thought from his mind and turned to the doctor.

"She will need to be woken up," the doctor said, earning himself angry looks from both Marius and Valjean. However, Valjean sat back down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Cosette?" he whispered. "Cosette, wake up..."

Her eyelids fluttered, and she opened them. Her father blocked her view of the rest of the room and she didn't see anyone else in it. She looked curiously up at her father, and to the side, noticing that she was lying on the chaise lounge.

"What... happened?" she whispered. She sounded so small that it broke Valjean's heart. He opened his mouth to answer her, but nothing came out but a groan. His eyes filled with tears, and he reached for her hands, unable to answer. "Papa?" she whispered, sitting up.

With that, two things happened. She felt a burn on her neck, and the ache of her ankles. She cried out in pain and reached a hand up to touch her neck, feeling the cut there. She quickly collapsed back down onto the chaise. Then she remembered what happened. She gave dry, silent sobs as she recalled details from the night, flooding into her brain like a candle in a cave.

She looked down at herself, and saw she was swathed in Marius' jacket. Remembering him finding her, she felt some comfort. He had taken her inside, taken her to her father. Her eyes looked up into the fearful and protective eyes of her father, and she felt even more comfort.

Was Marius here? She couldn't see. But her father must have seen him.

"Where is Marius?" she whispered.

"I'm right here." She heard his voice from behind her father. With the two of them there, she relaxed.

But it was not time to relax yet. The doctor had to talk to her. Her father stayed by her side the whole time, but Marius left the room to give her privacy. Her cuts were cleaned and looked over, and her ankles were bound tightly. She recounted, painstakingly, the details of her attack. Her shame was staggering at that point, but it had to be done. Fortunately, they learned that she was in no danger of the more terrible effects, as she was not truly raped.

Meanwhile, Marius waited in the kitchen, just wanting to be with Cosette. Finally, after an hour of agonizing waiting, Monsieur Fauchelevent opened the door to the kitchen.

"Cosette wants to see you," he said.

Marius nodded to him and walked into the living room, where she was lying, this time in her nightdress and dressing gown. He could make out bandages on her ankles.

"Cosette!" he said in a soft voice, moving over to stand my the chaise lounge. He took one of her hands in his own. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. If only I was here earlier..."

"Hush!" she said, putting a finger to his lips. "I owe you my life."

He clasped her hand and moved it to his cheek. "You owe me nothing."

She just shook her head. "You were my angel tonight."

But then her brows furrowed, and she moved her hand over the dark bruise that was on his cheek and touched his nose, which was was covered by an even darker bruise. Then she touched his arm lightly, as though her fingers were feathers. Her eyes were full of sadness as she examined the gash on his arm.

"You're hurt," she choked out.

"Don't worry about me. The only thing you have to worry about right now is feeling better- just go to sleep."

She shook her head. "Do you think I'll be able to sleep tonight? I'll have terrible nightmares! How could you even expect me to sleep?"

"Remember- we promised never to sleep without dreaming of each other. I've kept my promise! Haven't you?" He tried to cheer her up, tried to smile. "Think of me, and know I'll be thinking of you."

She let out a small, sad smile. "Did you speak to my father at all?"

"Very little- we had... more important things to worry about," he said.

Cosette nodded. "Will you come tomorrow? I want to see you soon. You can eat lunch here- you need to eat, you're so thin...!"

"Cosette, please don't worry about me! I'll ask your father."

"He'll let you come- after all, I wouldn't be here without you."

Marius nodded. "Now try to sleep when I leave, alright?"

"Goodnight, my love."

He squeezed her hand once more, and left the room.

"Wait here," Monsieur Fauchelevent said. "I'm going to take her upstairs so she can sleep, but please let me talk to you." For the first time that night, he spoke towards Marius with a lighter, more tender tone. For once, he was not intimidated.

Jean Valjean went into the living room one more time, and wrapped his arms around Cosette, carrying her up the stairs and into her bedroom. Gently, he set her down on her little white bed and tucked the covers around her.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked.

At first she felt silly- asking her father to stay with her, as though she was still afraid of the dark! But then she looked around at the uninviting blackness, and she nodded.

"Yes, please."

She gradually fell asleep, feeling comfort with the weight of her father sitting on the edge of her bed.

When he heard her breathing turn regular and deep, he rose up and went back downstairs.

The young man was standing against the wall in silence when he entered the living room.

"Young man," he began. "What is your name?"

Marius looked up. "My name is Marius Pontmercy."

Valjean bowed his head towards him. "I have much to thank you for, Marius Pontmercy. She is everything to me. I don't know what I would have done if..." he shuddered. "She is such a remarkable person."

"I know," Marius said, looking at the floor. Valjean nodded, not used to this.

Marius hesitated, but began talking anyway. "Monsieur, is there any way I could come to see her tomorrow? Please understand- I _must_ know if she's alright." He opened his mouth to continue, but nothing came out.

Valjean thought for a moment. How did he know that this Marius was not just trying to steal his daughter away from him? He didn't. And Valjean just couldn't get over the overly dreamy demeanor he had- did this Marius even work? Was he capable?

But then he remembered the sharp anger and agressiveness in the boy's eyes when he brought Cosette inside. He was tangibly angry. Obviously he was not a complete dreamer- he had acted quickly, it seemed...

Before he could think about it properly, he felt himself giving in.

"Come tomorrow at noon."

* * *

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	4. How Does One Heal?

Marius did not sleep a wink all night. Haunting images flooded his brain- images that seemed like those out of nightmare, but in reality had actually happened. He saw Cosette tied to a tree, bleeding and violated, every time he closed his eyes. He knew she hadn't _actually _been raped, but it had been close enough. Anger pulsed through his veins when he thought of that.

Marius knew that the rape of a woman was one of the vilest crimes to commit. He himself even disapproved of when his friends would seduce women so they would give themselves over of their own will. But rape- that was something he couldn't even imagine. It was filthy, evil, sick, black.

That was the rape of a woman. But Cosette was not just a woman- no! She was an angel. To rape Cosette, or even attempt to rape her... well, that was worse. To Marius, that was so much worse that it made his hands shake and his sensed reel.

To add to his discomfort, his injuries were starting to really bother him. Back at Cosette's house, his attention had been focused elsewhere. Now, alone in his room, the cut on his arm stung and his nose throbbed. The bruise was turning dark and frankly made him look awful, and he knew he'd only look worse the next morning.

He sighed, tears coming to his eyes. _Don't think about it anymore,_ he tried to tell himself. _She's safe with her father. You did everything you could._

But had he? _No, you were late. She was looking for you, and that's why all this happened. If you had been here earlier, she would be safe!_

Self-hatred rolled through him. This was all his fault.

* * *

His hands twisted, breaking the back of the spindly chair he was holding. Anger pulsed through him. Anger that he had sworn to leave behind long ago.

_My soul does not belong to me anymore,_ he tried to tell himself. _It belongs to God. _

God lived upstairs in the form of Cosette. His darling Cosette. He could close his eyes, and still feel her tiny, frozen hand pressing itself into his for the first time. How she had shivered in her filthy rags!

Poor child, he had thought then. But now- it was all back. All that misery that he had tried to chaise out of her eyes as a child would be back again. Her gaze again would mistrust and hold fear. She would shake at all the loud noises, as she had as a child. She was once again someone to be pitied.

_Cosette!_

When he had given his soul over to God, he had tried his best. He acted as a kind man, a good man, and he had only made one true mistake: firing Fantine. But he had tried to fix that, hadn't he? What was this punishment?

His soul belonged to God again, it was true. However, the price of that was that he learned how to love again. Oh, it seemed a blessing at the time. When he took Cosette away from the Thenardiers, he had marveled at the love he had begun to feel- that protective, adoring feeling. And it had only grown stronger. But now he realized that it was actually a curse- the pain he felt now was hardly endurable. It was God testing his faith, but hurting Cosette.

_Will you still trust me, Valjean?_He seemed to be asking. And Valjean had no answer.

* * *

A knock rang through the house at eleven o'clock, breaking Valjean from his drowsy state. His thoughts had tortured him all night. Cosette had risen early, and sat like a ghost next to him, unmoving, silent. He guessed she had slept as much as he had.

He rose up involuntarily, and opened the door. The boy's bruises had gotten worse, and he was pale. He looked ghastly.

"That makes three of us," Valjean mumbled, stepping aside.

Marius entered the house, holding a bunch of wild flowers he had encountered on the way. At the time he thought they would brighten Cosette's mood, but now he saw it as a silly gesture. Like a handful of dead flowers could make her feel happy? He felt like throwing them on the ground.

His eyes fell on her then, and she looked as awful as either of them. She was pale. Her hair was pulled back unceremoniously with a plain ribbon, and she was dressed in a heavy, dark wrapper that was meant for wintertime. Her feet were clad in slippers.

Now, this more than anything touched Marius. Cosette, though far from vain, took much pride from her appearance. Marius knew this. To see that she had made no effort at all- why, that was very unlike her.

Without meaning to, he threw an anxious glance at Monsieur Fauchelevent, who only nodded, resigned. The two men, old and young, sat down: her father at her side, Marius at a chair nearby the couch.

Silence filled the room, heavy and stifling. No one made an effort to break it. The thoughts from the night before simply stewed in their brains. Trying to distract himself, Marius wondered how Cosette wasn't sweating terribly in that thick robe. It did not work.

The clock struck noon before anyone had said anything. Toussaint entered the room to tell them lunch was served. For her part, she had been busying herself in the kitchen. Toussaint was very fond of Cosette, and even fonder of her father. To see the two of them in pain made her uncomfortable and sad. She had cleaned and cooked all morning.

The three of them looked up at her with slightly desperate, frightened expressions. They relocated into the kitchen, though any of them could have told Toussaint that they would not be eating.

Cosette sat in silence, looking no worse than either of the men she was with. However, they were sick with worry, while she was sick with... what was she feeling? She couldn't say. She only felt as though she was going to retch, swoon, and sweat off a fever at the same time, while still shivering with chill. She couldn't think of the night before without the room spinning. Shame would grasp at her throat and squeeze the air from her lungs, and she would feel the mans hands, once again...

_Poor child, _thought Valjean.

* * *

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	5. An Anonymous Wound

Weeks went by. Weeks that bled together like the ink on wet paper, unreadable. Valjean nor Marius nor Cosette could have said anything specific about those weeks, they were just "the weeks afterward."

Valjean noticed the biggest change in her, but they were not lost on Marius or Toussaint. Cosette became shy and reclusive, and absolutely refused to be left alone. One day, Valjean went over to Cosette and told her that he needed to go out for a few hours. It was about two weeks following the incident, and in the early afternoon. Upon hearing this, Cosette had thrown a fit, crying and pleading with him not to leave her, completely turning into someone he was not sure he knew. Someone different than his daughter, a frightened and threatened little girl. Instead he sent Toussaint and stayed home.

After some time, she began putting more effort into her appearance, but it seemed more like something to do to pass the time than something she enjoyed. But despite the change in her personality, neither man, Marius nor Valjean, could deny that seeing her hair sleek and curled as opposed to lank and flat was a good sign: at least she seemed to care.

Each day, Marius would come over, sometimes staying almost all day and sometimes only an hour or so, depending on the mood in the house. But each and every day, without fail, Cosette would see him and see her father, and know they loved her. Though she never said anything about it, Valjean could see in her face that this, more than anything, would get her through.

Her injuries healed, her broken ankle taking the longest. Soon, though, even that was strong again, and after some practice, she could once again climb the stairs without assistance or get aches after walking short distances. This small victory overjoyed her, and anyone could see she was glad to be able to function on her own again- depending on her father to get her up and down the stairs only made her feel useless. It seemed, on the surface at least, that she was healing.

For weeks on end, Valjean would offer to take Cosette out for a walk. She always declined.

"Darling, it's sunny out today. The flowers are blooming, and as you always say, it 'smells like spring.' Come, let us go to the Luxembourg," he would say, and she would just solemnly shake her head.

"Why don't we just sit in the garden then?" he would ask, and she would halfheartedly sit outside on the bench in the garden. Her eyes, once so bright and blue, were melancholy. The blue did not have their old pretty sparkle; instead they shined a beautiful sadness. This was the kind of beauty no one wanted to see on her. They stared into space, not lost in fantasies, but lost in nightmares.

Finally, one day in late summer, Cosette looked longingly out the windows. Her papa had not offered to take her outside in a long time, because of the fighting on the streets. She had secretly liked hearing him ask her. Though she had said no every time, she thought he understood that by saying 'no,' she actually meant, 'yes.' She was just not brave enough to say it directly. But now that he had stopped offering, well... She longed to see the birds again, and hear their chattering in the trees. There was only so much one could see out of a garden, she now knew.

However, her garden kept her safe. She desired to leave the garden, to go on walks with her papa, and that was why she always yearned to take up his offers. But then her rational mind would scold her: _Cosette, the one time you stepped out of your garden, **this** happened. You are not meant to leave- why go when there are people to take care of you here? It is not your place to roam- leave that to the men._

Also, the fighting. It could not be safe for her.

But there was no fighting today, or so Marius had said when he stopped by that morning. And if her papa went with her... There was no one that she could imagine who would hurt her when Papa was there...

"Papa, may we go for a walk?" she asked, surprising herself. Despite hours debating this, she still felt shocked when she felt the words run out of her mouth.

Valjean nearly dropped the book he was holding, staring blankly at her. When she only stared back, he smiled a genuine warm smile to her.

"Yes, my dear daughter," he said, his voice sounding weak coming from such a strong man. "We may."

And off they went.

* * *

The next day when Marius came to visit, she requested another walk. He tagged along behind her and her father this time, marveling at her fragility and bravery. However, he could see her eyes scanning every single man she passed on the street, looking at profile, height, size... Cosette's thoughts were usually a such a mystery to him, but this time they were obvious: _Was it him? Was it **him?**_

Each day as this went on, Marius went with her. For months he, Cosette's father, and Cosette would walk outside. As the weather grew colder, she grew more and more trusting, and would no longer have fits when requested to be left alone for an hour or two. However, her reactions on walks were the same: always searching, always suspicious. He could not deny that he was doing the same thing: searching the profile of every man, looking for Thenardier. Marius had no idea what he would do if he found him, but he knew one thing: Thenardier would not be the better for it. However, he would not act on anything, he would not look for Thenardier. He had promised; it was a promise that killed him to keep, but one he felt bound to.

It had been a tense evening, when Cosette had retired early and Marius was leaving to go home- the sun had only barely set. It had been a tough day on her, in which she had actually talked about what happened, other than complain about an ache or two. She never had done that in the past.

"I just want to know," she began, her eyes beseechingly searching Marius' and her father's, "who it was. Did he know me? Why did he call me, 'the lark'? Why did I know the name...?" she asked desperately, taking her head in her hands. Soon afterwards, it had been too much and she had wandered upstairs.

Marius had a hand on the doorknob when he turned around to face Monsieur Fauchelevent. He knew what he wanted to say, but had to idea how to begin.

"Yes?" the old man asked, causing Marius to be more speechless than he already was. That man had a real knack for intimidation.

"I was wondering when you were going to tell her who did it," Marius began. The look on Monsieur Fauchelevent's face burned right through Marius, and he recoiled a bit. "I mean, if you were planning on telling her. I understand it is not my business..."

"You are right, it is not," Monsieur Fauchelevent said, his voice pure, deep, booming. "But I see no reason why I should not tell you: there would be no advantage in telling her anything." He said this simply, as though the subject was closed.

"But... don't you see? It's torturing her! She distrusts _everyone_. Maybe if-"

"Maybe if she knew the name of the man, it would help her? No, it would only haunt her in her nightmares. She could put a face to him, a life, when she has a name to think of him. He is better not having a name- it is safer." Though Valjean would never tell Marius, he knew the advantages of not having a name. He hoped they would apply to Cosette- her attack was nameless, her attacker even more anonymous.

"Safer for _him,_ maybe," Marius said darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that if she knows nothing, all it does is let him get away with what he did. It will become worse- she will brood, she will be terrified, she will never stop thinking about it! Do you even _care?_ I am a lawyer, I can defend her in court, I am positive it was him, and I shan't just let him go. I shall- I know who it is, the police are looking for him anyway, the trial shall be nothing- Cosette will not even be there, I can pull some strings. You will have to speak, and I shall speak- it is easy. He is already _wanted, _I tell you!"

"No," the old man said harshly, drawing himself up. However, Marius did not give in, his eyes aflame and his spirit not going to be crushed.

"I tell you, it is easy, it is simple, it will be done quickly. Painlessly! You won't have to be the one to tell her, if that is what you are worried about. I believe she will be the better for it, with the whole affair over and done with. I _know_ her, and I _know_-"

"You know her better than I do?" the man growled, causing Marius to recoil.

"Please forgive me- I did not mean that..." he backtracked, knowing that he was only angering the man more and more. But why wouldn't he listen. "If we only got the police involved-"

"_I said no!"_Valjean slammed his fist onto the table, and Marius fell silent. "I am her father- you are not. You are lucky that I am allowing you to be here, and I make all of the decisions where she is concerned. Not you, _me._ If you try and step in one more time, you will be banished from this household, boy. _Is that clear?"_

"Yes, sir," Marius said softly and subserviently, staring at the ground.

"Do not bring this up again. She will know nothing more, you will not go the the _police,"_ he spat the word as though it was a dirty curse. "You are a guest here and only welcome as long as you obey these rules. Cosette wants you here, so I suggest you _do as I say."_

_"_Yes, sir," Marius said again.

"I think it best you go home," Monsieur Fauchelevent said, and Marius did not need him to say it twice.

So, weeks later, Marius obeyed Monseiur Fauchelevent's rules. He was right- Marius was only there on his permission, and without it he could not see Cosette.

However, he still wondered. Why did he seem to hate him, Marius, so much? Why did he forbid Marius from defending his daughter's case in court? Why did Monsieur Fauchelevent seem to recognize the name 'Thenardier'? Why was he so eager in hiding everything from Cosette?

And most importantly, why did all of this anger begin with the mention of the police?


	6. Finding an Answer

Marius had kept his promise. He had refrained from mentioning anything to Cosette about Thenardier, or anything about the police around her father. He had been nothing by what a father could dream of for his daughter- or so he hoped.

That was what he had been doing when he was at the rue Plumet. At home, his life was much different. He could not show his distress to Cosette- she carried to much on her own shoulders- but he knew she could tell he was bothered by something. But he didn't have the heart to tell her that one day when he came back to his apartment, he found that his best friend would never return. There was nothing left but a short note letting him know that all his friends were at the funeral of General Lamarque, and that he should join them. He had spent all day with Monsieur Fauchelevent and Cosette, and did not return until nightfall. Courfeyrac and Marius had expected fighting to result from this funeral- 'a spark to ignite the nation!' Courfeyrac had said- and they had been right. Fighting was well underway- a lull was moving through the barricades at the moment, but Marius had enough sense to know that it was not finished yet. There would be more shots heard in the morning. He could not go- he knew he would not be let out if he went- nothing awaited him at the barricades except handcuffs and a bullet in the skull. He couldn't save Courfeyrac. But that didn't mean it did not hurt to know that he had lost him.

Once his friends were gone, Marius knew he had to crack down. He didn't want to, but he shortened his visits with Cosette and took another job- it was the best he could do. He went back to translating while looking for cases to fight. Without a roommate to pay half to rent or, as Courfeyrac had become in the last few months, a friend to borrow money from, he would truly starve unless he did something to support himself.

By putting himself more actively in the law circuit, he did find some other opportunities. Though he promised Monsieur Fauchelevent not to mention Thenardier to Cosette, that did not mean he could not research him on his own. Apparently he'd been arrested several times, and was currently being searched for on many different offenses, most of them theft and fraud. Those facts shed no light- Marius could have told anyone on the street those exact things prior to Cosette's attack. He did, however, find that he had lost an inn a few years back and lost all his money. Marius remembered some ramblings he had not understood back last winter in the Gorbeau tenement, and they made sense. Thenardier's remarks about the Lark and the Rich Man did not fit. Obviously he had been talking about Cosette and Monsieur Fauchelevent- but how had he known Cosette? And what made no sense at all was calling Monsieur Fauchelevent a rich man. Though he had more money than Marius, he was by no means rich. The inside of the house was as plain as any workingman's home.

None of it made any sense- it was like trying to fit together a puzzle with only half the pieces. He knew he was missing something, some huge detail that would make everything fit. Until he had that, he knew nothing. He might as well give up.

Marius did not have any money to hire anyone, but he did ask a few people to look for Thenardier. Before turning him in, though, he now wanted to question him. There were questions that were burning holes in the back of Marius' mind: who was Monsieur Fauchelevent? How did Thenardier know Cosette? If he found him, he promised himself that he would ask these questions. But Marius did not know if he could trust himself not to act foolishly and make a dangerous mistake in his haste.

For the time being, he knew he had to keep his mouth shut and his mind at work.

* * *

Valjean was growing more and more agitated by the day. He saw the young man come every day, and saw Cosette's face light up. But Valjean saw what Cosette did not. Pontmercy was growing more and more pensive each time he stopped by, and he was eyeing Valjean with a kind of curious awe and respect. What scared Valjean was that Marius also looked at him as though he knew that he was hiding something. That would not do.

He had kept quiet, it was true, but only in words. His mind was as active as ever, and Valjean knew that it was only a matter of time before the questions began again.

But what could he do? He could not simply ban the boy from the house- it was obvious to many that Cosette was only recovering this quickly because he was there. She was simply delighted that her father seemed to accept Marius, and that Marius seemed to like her father. Nothing could make her happier than the friendship, or at least respect, of those two men. If Valjean banned Marius from the house, Cosette would be devastated.

But if Pontmercy kept digging this way, he would eventually come to a conclusion. If he found out the truth, he would be frightened. Valjean would be ruined, his filthy secret exposed to the world. He had hid it for so long- who would have guessed that the person who brought so much happiness to Cosette's life could cause so much agony in Valjean's? But worse- what if he found out only a small detail, and came to the wrong conclusion? What if he inferred something much worse than the real truth? What if Marius told Cosette what he knew? And the worst... what if he tried to take Cosette away? Valjean couldn't even think it. He knew Marius could not very well take Cosette away legally, but it did not stop his terror.

Finally, he couldn't just _tell _the boy- he'd run off of his own accord, perhaps, which would be just as bad as if he had been banished. No, Valjean needed a way to keep the boy here- trap him with Cosette, almost- and then somehow ease the boy's questions. Most importantly, he could not let this curiosity continue.

On Marius' way out one day, Valjean caught up with him. Cosette was in the kitchen and out of earshot.

"Monsieur Pontmercy," Valjean said. "I understand that you live with your grandfather?"

"No, Monsieur. I used to, but we've had a bit of a falling out." Marius said, confused. Monsieur Fauchelevent almost never made a point of speaking to him alone. It made him nervous.

"I see," Valjean looked away, thinking for a minute, before turning back to Marius. "And where does he live?"

Still confused, Marius told him the address, and then wrote it down. "Pardon me, but why do you ask?"

"I would like to speak to him about a few things," Valjean said simply. Marius tried not to hope over what he meant.

"He is very... strict, Monsieur. I am not entirely sure he wants to hear anything about me. He was very angry last time I saw him."

"How old is he? How long is it been since you saw him?"

"It's been four years; why, he's ninety-two by now," Marius answered, marveling.

For the first time, Valjean smiled kindly. Marius looked at him in awe. "If I were ninety-two and hadn't spoken to my grandson in four years, I would not care _what _he'd done. Believe me, he will want to hear from you."

Not entirely believing it, Marius nodded.

"I will write him, and then you shall introduce me. No matter how angry your grandfather is, I am sure something can be worked out."

_Worked out over what?_ Marius was desperate to know. Not daring to ask, he just nodded, hoping against hope that something could indeed be worked out.


	7. Abandoning the Search

**Sorry for the long period without an update... I really have to stop doing that.**

* * *

"If you could have anything in the entire world, what would it be?" Cosette asked Marius as they sat in his Grandfather's living room.

He thought for a moment. "I have everything," he said honestly. Their marriage had been arranged, and his relationship with Monsieur Fauchelevent, though still cool, was growing more comfortable by the day. The long-time feud with his grandfather was over.

She shook her head. "Everyone wants _something."_

"Do you?" he asked, curious.

She nodded. "Happiness- I already am happy, but I want for this to continue just the way it is now. I don't want anything to change. Is that too much to ask for?"

_Maybe, _he thought, knowing everything has to change sometime. But he agreed that nothing should change. Everything, for now, seemed perfect. Or as perfect as it could be, while he lived here in his grandfather's house. He saw Cosette daily as her father and his Grandfather arranged their marriage, which had been blessed fully by both. It seemed that everything worked out. Well, worked out in light of everything that had happened.

"I have something that I want," he realized. "I would go back in time and change a few things."

"Like what?"

"I would get to my father's house earlier on the day he died, so I could at least see him. Or better yet, I would have questioned my grandfather earlier and possibly been able to salvage some kind of relationship with my father. I would have liked to have known him."

Cosette didn't say anything, she just held his hand in her own.

"And I would also get to your garden earlier that night so that man never would have hurt you," he finished, his voice icy and bitter.

Cosette shook her head. "Marius, you're going to have to forgive him sometime," she said.

He leaned back, shock and disbelief on his face. "What are you talking about? How can you even _say_ that- after what he did to you?!"

"Maybe 'forgive' was not the best word, but Marius- look at what he's already stolen. My trust for almost everyone in the world, yours and my father's trust. He stole many months of my health, from when I couldn't walk for the broken ankles. He stole my happiness, ended my childhood abruptly. I feel that hating him passionately like this only allows him to be more powerful. Spending this much time thinking about him only allows him to steal even more from us. How much more are we going to allow him to take?"

Marius knew she was right, but that didn't stop him from being amazed at her capacity for forgiveness. Her resilience- how she just let his horrible wound wash over her, not allowing it to cause her permanent pain. She was not bitter. She was wiser, but she did not allow it to control her life. He would never be able to do that. Lately it seemed like the only thing he could think about was the battle going in his mind between his father's will, asking him to grant Thenardier every liberty he found possible, and this horrible crime Thenardier had inflicted upon Cosette.

This battle almost translated directly to "Cosette or Father?" It was not an easy choice, but it was one he felt tugging away at him nevertheless. He had not reached a conclusion, but he knew which was easier: if Thenardier showed his face, it would take less control to attempt to kill him than to be kind to his fiance's rapist. Cosette held a larger portion of his heart than his father did- it had not always been this way, but she had worked her way there slowly but surely. But his father was still a presence, holding fast and demanding respect and love. And Marius did love him. Furthermore, this request had been in his _will. _Out of respect for the dead, Marius could not bring himself to abandon this search. And it was his father's own legacy, for God's sake!

But at the same time, this was Cosette who was hurt. How could he be generous to her attacker? The two people with the strongest holds on his soul were tugging in different directions without even meaning to.

And his search for Thenardier was unrelenting. There was very little he could do to find him, out of his promise to Cosette's father. Add in the fact that Thenardier was like smoke, and seemed to have the ability to slip through fingers, unharmed and untouchable, and finding him seemed impossible. But that did not stop Marius from thinking constantly about where he could be, obsessing over a conclusion that he could not find.

But with this blessing from Cosette, the fight going on in his brain seemed to have reached a conclusion. Between Cosette's Thenardier and his Father's Thenardier, he did not know where to put his loyalties. But here, Cosette was allowing him to forfeight her fight, lay down his search. Stop obsessing over a man he could not find. And maybe the answer lay here: the greatest liberty he could grant Thenardier was just that, liberty. Freedom. He would stop his search, set him free, stop thinking about him, and move on with his life. It would set them both free.

_Let this fire die,_ he told himself, taking a page from Cosette's book. _It is not healthy. It's making you cruel._

Though he vowed to abandon this seach, it did not guarentee that, should Thenardier show his face, he would be forgiven. Marius could not manage that, no matter how openhearted Cosette might suggest he be.


	8. Finding Him Again

**Hi everyone! I decided to change this to 'T' because it's really not all that graphic. Plus, it's not encouraging the rape or anything horrible like that. I hope that's ok with everyone. Hope you like the new chapter!**

* * *

Marius hunched his shoulders against the biting November wind, slapping against his cheek. Wet, freezing leaves were being blown about, and he wrapped his coat more tightly around himself and stuffed his hands more deeply into his pockets. He was on his way to the house of the Fauchelevents, for his last visit before his wedding the next day. Other than the weather (which seemed angry and vengeful despite the joyous moods), everything seemed to be in in order. He tried not to think about how many more blocks he had to walk as droplets of water hit his cheek. He shivered, seeming to be chilled to the very bone. He focused his eyes on the back of the man in front of him on the street, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, hoping it would make the journey faster.

The man in front of him was hunched as well- maybe even more so. Marius could scarcely see his head. What he _could _make out from behind his tense shoulders was covered with a dark green working man's cap. The man was not very large- scrawny looking, even- but dressed in clothes far too large for him. Marius looked about the street, but it was void of other passerby, save an old woman with her basket of groceries.

A carriage came up behind him, and Marius jumped out of the way to avoid being hit the with cold, muddy water that would be kicked up by its wheels. In the process, he gained more of a view of the man in front of him. He had a hooked nose, was slight of build, and had bulging, fishy eyes. Marius couldn't shake a feeling that he recognized him, even only seeing a profile view. They had reached the end of the street, which branched both left and right. The man in front of him turned right. Marius looked left, which was the direction of the Fauchelevent home. He checked his watch- he still had twenty minutes, and the walk would only take about ten. So he turned right and continued to follow.

The chilling wind continued to blow, causing Marius to keep his head down. He tried to pop up his lapels to keep his ears warm, but did not suceed. His fingers were stiff with cold, and he could not feel the tip of his nose anymore. Just then, a particuliary strong gust of wind intervened, causing the man's cap to fly off, right towards Marius. Reaching up, he plucked it out of the air, hoping that the short conversation that would ensue would jog his memory. However, he didn't need even that. The man turned and looked Marius straight in the face.

"You!" they both cried at once.

Marius launched himself forward, his body colliding with Thenardier's, trying with all his might to get a good grip on him. He couldn't say what was pulsing through his veins. Passion? Hatred? It was difficult to name, but it didn't matter. Whatever it was pushed Marius to try and cause as much physical pain to the man who had injured Cosette beyond repair.

But once again, Thenardier was a rat. Rats can disappear into sewers and into the cracks in walls, never to be seen again. With a well-placed blow to the face and a push, Marius was flying towards the ground. He cried out as his elbow scraped the concrete, tearing his coat and shirt beneath. He scrambled to his feet, but by the same he was standing again, Thenardier's coattails had vanished around the corner. Marius swore in a way he never had before- this time from frustration as well as everything else he felt for the despicable man.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder. Marius, startled, turned and saw himself face-to-face with a police officer.

"Monsieur," he said, his voice shaking. "That man! You must run after that man! He-"

"What I saw was you, Monsieur, attack a man on the street. Without provocation, it seemed."

"I can explain-"

"Doubtless," the officer said coldly. With a swift move, the officer retrieved his handcuffs. "Now come with me so I don't have to use these."

Marius could not believe it. Mouth open, he uttered an unintelligible sound. This was preposterous- monstrous! That _he, _Marius, was under arrest for giving Thenardier what he deserved!

But Marius was a lawyer, and knew when to keep his mouth shut. He prayed that he would get the chance to explain himself soon enough.

Later, Marius was escorted to a holding cell in the jail, to wait for the chief of police to talk to him. Shaking, Marius looked at his newest roommates: a gruff, large man whose eyes were cold (_murderer,_ Marius thought in his mind, scared out of his wits), a thin, old man who was muttering prayers in the corner, and a shifty-eyed sweaty man who was shaking profusely. Marius wrapped his arms around himself and retreated to a free corner of the cell, trying to put as much space between himself and those men.

He closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that he could go back in time. If he hadn't been so God damned hotheaded, it would be Thenardier, not him, in the cell.

But we know Marius. He acts marvelously in extremely dangerous situations, when quick-thinking is needed and a smart man needs to think of a solution. But in less urgent situations, where delicate reasoning is involved? Well, he is likely to make a huge blunder, such as the one he had just made.

Marius couldn't believe he'd just pounced on him- he was usually not a violent person. If only he'd waited two minutes and found a way to corner Thenardier, then called the police over... but he had not done that.

Somewhere in Paris, the clock struck noon. Marius sighed. An hour ago he was supposed to meet Cosette. He had never been late to see her before, and so he did not know how she would react. She would worry, most likely, or maybe even be angry. He peered through the bars of the cell, and saw little to no activity going on in the police station. It seemed he would be here for a while before he could even explain himself to someone with authority. _If they will listen,_ he thought. Cursing his stupidity from the bottom of his heart, Marius hoped Cosette would forgive him.

But he shuddered- if she was not angry, her father might be. And the two of them were already on shaky terms. What if he did not let them marry?

With a jolt, Marius sat straight up. He had to get out of here- his wedding was tomorrow! He had to explain himself- it wasn't his fault! It wasn't! _It wasn't!_

"That's what everyone says, boy," came a voice from across the aisle, in the cell facing him. Marius looked over, and saw a snake-like man peering through the bars. He flushed, chagrined that he'd been saying those words out loud. "When they first come in, anyway. Then they quiet down," he finished, smirking.

_Maybe so,_ Marius thought, shaking his head. _But the difference here is that I did nothing wrong. Everyone else here probably committed a crime- it's all about circumstance. I'm not a villain._

But, though he didn't want it to, dread passed through Marius. He sighed, slouching back down against the wall, and resigned himself to his bleak fate. He looked around the cell- the grimy bars, dark stones, foreboding feeling and its angry occupants. He looked at the men who he would be spending the next few nights with, and shuddered. One thing was certain: Marius would not spend the next night laying beside Cosette.


	9. The Past Returns

**I hope you guys like this twist in the storyline- please let me know!**

* * *

Marius anxiously counted the hours as the clock chimed, until finally a police officer walked over to the holding cell. With the scrape of the lock, he was led out into the office of the head police officer, Inspector Neveau. Marius couldn't take the degradation of the handcuffs digging into his wrists.

"Name?" a lesser officer asked, then proceeded to fill out a form with all of Marius' necessary information. Marius was grateful when they took his grandfathers address. He was also grateful that he had not been at the barricades the summer before- his record was spotless. Hopefully he could make a good impression.

"I understand you attacked a man on the street," the Inspector stated, his elbows on his desk and his chin resting on his fingers.

"If you please, Monsieur," Marius pleaded. "I beseech you- listen to my story."

The man answered him with a blank stare. Nervously, he continued.

"You see, monsieur, the man on the street..." he began with his voice shaking. He felt his father's will pressing down on him, and he could not bear to say Thenardier's name out loud.

"Yes?" the man prompted curtly, writing something on a sheet of paper. Motivated, Marius continued.

"You see, I have seen the man before. I know of many crimes the man has committed. Most recently, he attempted to rape my fiance and when I saw him, I acted rashly."

"You should not have taken the law into your own hands," the man said, setting his pen down. Standing, he handed the paper he had written on to the other police officer. "Have this sent to his grandfather while I continue to speak with Monsieur Pontmercy. His record is clean enough, and we shall negotiate something."

The man nodded, and Marius seemed to melt with relief. It was just before six o'clock- if he was out within the hour, he could make it to the Fauchelevents and explain what had happened.

"Now," the inspector said, turning towards Marius. "This attempted rape you speak of. Was it reported?"

Marius cringed. "No."

The Inspector raised his eyebrows. "You know the man?" Marius nodded. "Then, by God, what was his name?"

Marius bit his lip. "I..."

The Inspector continued. "What was the name of your fiance? Her father?"

Marius felt too many promises influencing him- his promise to Monsieur Fauchelevent not to bring the police into the picture, his oath to his father. But the inspector's eyes were gleaming at him, and the metal of the handcuffs chafed his skin. The clock struck six then, and the knowledge that his wedding was tomorrow pushed him forward. Marius knew that six months after the fact, an attempted rape was impossible to prove. But he also knew that he would not be leaving the station until he had told his story.

"Fauchelevent. Her name is Fauchelevent."

* * *

Jean Valjean did not like to be a spiteful person. However, that day in June when he'd opened the newspaper and seen the death of Inspector Javert- printed in black and white!- had been a wonderful one. Not joyous or celebratory, but Valjean felt as if twenty years of worry, shame, and terror had been lifted from his shoulders. For twenty years, a man had been following Valjean, gripping the back of his coat, whispering in his ear, drawing ever closer. Sometimes, Valjean would lose sight of the man- he had outrun him, per se- but the man was never gone. He was only lurking further behind, in the shadows. The man was his past.

That was why it had worried him so when Monsieur Pontmercy had started digging after details. Couldn't Marius be satisfied knowing that Cosette loved him more than she loved he, Valjean? Couldn't he be satisfied knowing that he had everything Valjean wanted? No- he wanted more. He wanted information, and that more than anything drove Valjean to dislike the man.

However, Valjean managed to look past this. For weeks, Monsieur Pontmercy did not speak of his desire to uncover the truth. He did not breath a word of what he knew to Cosette, and he was nothing less than polite, courteous, and exactly what Valjean could ask for for his daughter (on purpose, no doubt, but virtually flawless all the same). So that was why, on the eve of Cosette and Marius' wedding, Valjean was so surprised when Monsieur Pontmercy did not come to visit as he had promised he would.

Cosette was worried for his safety, harping on about illness or someone hurting him on the street. She wound her hands in her lap, a crease on her forehead. She checked the clock when she thought her father was not looking. Without being prompted, she made excuses for Marius' lateness, as though Valjean had insulted him. More than anything, she was frightened. Cosette- candid, darling Cosette- would never suspect Marius of breaking his word. Valjean reassured her, saying that something had probably just come up out of nowhere and taken him by surprise. After all, that was probable. There was a lot of business that may need to be taken care of for the wedding the next day. After so many weeks- months, even- of being prompt and present, Valjean did not suspect Marius had run off or anything of the sort. However, the rudeness of it, as well as the grief it had caused Cosette, _did_peeve Valjean.

So when a knock on the door interrupted the silence at around seven-thirty, Valjean assumed it was Monsieur Pontmercy, here to reassure Cosette and apologize profusely. He was ready to give the young man a stern look when he opened the door. Three police officers stood before him.

The man had returned.


	10. Arriving Home

Valjean did not know whether to be relieved or livid about the current circumstances. Both, he decided. Relieved that these men were not after him, but livid that Monsieur Pontmercy had not let this die. For hours, he was interrogated by these men. Despite his heart-pounding in terror the entire time, he had gotten through it. Worse, though, was watching them talk to Cosette. He felt protective over her, angry at these men for being cold towards her. They were not cruel, but they frightened her. However, that was partially his fault- Cosette had been taught to fear the police. Still, as he watched her nervousness and shame be exploited in front of these strangers, he felt furious at Marius for throwing this upon her, without even being their to witness it. What on earth possessed him to do this?

Whatever it was, he would not go unpunished. Valjean doubted whether Cosette, who had been recovering so well, would make it through the night without being traumatized. She had to relive her entire experience, which had been harmful enough on its own. She was red and tearful from the shame of recounting the details in front of strangers. They did not press, but even vaguely describing what had been done to her was terrifying.

At last, when they left, Cosette ran upstairs into her room without a word to Valjean. He knew her well enough to know why, and it was not her shame about her attack. She was angry with Marius, and she was ashamed of that. But she also knew that no matter how angry she was, her father would be angrier, and she could not stand to listen to him insult Marius. So she'd run away, retiring to her room.

* * *

In the police station, after Marius had recounted the details, he'd begged the men not to go to Cosette and Jean Valjean. "Please, Messieurs," he'd asked the men. "You know as well as I that any evidence is long gone by now- her wounds have healed, the man has run. And all this would do is frighten her again."

Inspector Neveau gave Marius a stern glare. "What is more important than the evidence, at this point, is discovering whether or not your story is true."

Marius fell silent as the man took him back to the holding cell. He was already regretting telling the police about the incident. He knew how shamed Cosette would be. She would be crying, sobbing most likely. He cringed in shame and his insides twisted with guilt. This was his fault.

A few hours later, Marius was taken out of the holding cell again.

"His story is true. At least, both the girl and her father confirmed it. But he's right- there's nothing we can do now," the officer said.

"Alright. Bring his grandfather in," the Inspector said. Marius' heart leaped. Why else would they bring Grandfather in, if not to release him?

The door opened, and his tiny, tufty-haired grandfather burst into the room, not showing any of his ninety-two years.

"Break the rules!" he yelled. "I told you to break the rules, Marius! I meant go out with friends, see a racy show, enjoy your youth. I didn't mean to get arrested!" He reached Marius then, and smacked him hard on the arm.

"This boy, Messieurs," he said, regarding Marius as a boy despite the fact that he was not, in fact, a boy any longer. "Has always toed the line. Yes, he ran away from me all those years ago- the rogue!- but he returned. Prompted by a girl, of course, but who here hasn't been in love? Who here has never felt the charms of a woman? Certainly I have, those wonderful creatures! But you see, this boy never had a mistress, never gambled, never frequented those cafes where all the young men do is drink and fight each other. Why, you see, I used to view it as a wasted youth, but nevertheless, he has been straight-laced from the beginning. My fine men, you will find his record to be quite clean. He is not a violent boy! This was crime of passion- and well deserved passion at that! I've met his fine fiance- many times, I assure you, this whole thing is quite proper- and she is such a lovely lady that I would bet my life savings that any of you would go into a fight for her. And, Messieurs, I beseech you. His wedding is tomorrow. Please, my goods sirs, let him go-"

"That will do," Inspector Neveau cut off, giving both Grandfather and Marius an icy stare. Marius flushed. Why did his grandfather have to do that? "But, as I see it, there is no reason for you to stay. I will make a record of this, and if you return here, we will not be so lenient. You may see yourselves out."

Marius could not believe his ears, even as the door was opened and he was set free. Just like that! Meanwhile, Grandfather was talking his ear off. They went into the waiting carriage, and made their way back to the house on the rue des Filles-du-Calvaire. Marius went upstairs immediately, glad to see a servant had drawn a bath for him. Cleaning the grime of the street and the jail from his body, he dreaded to think about what would happen the following day.

At midnight he put on his nightshirt and collapsed onto the bed, unable to dread the coming day any longer. He was exhausted.

At eight, he woke. He thought of getting more sleep, but then he remembered what he had to do. He'd go straight to the Fauchelevents and explain everything- surely this could be fixed- the wedding was not until the late afternoon. If he was lucky, he could even spare customs and have a conversation with Monsieur Fauchelevent without even seeing Cosette.

He rose from his bed and dressed quickly. He was about to leave when a knock sounded on his door.

"Enter," he said, and Basque opened the door.

"Monsieur le Baron," he said respectfully. "You have a visitor waiting for you downstairs. Monsieur Fauchelevent."

Marius swallowed, feeling a lump rising in his throat, his chest constricting in trepidation. "Thank you," he said, and brushed past him.

_Surely he can't be too angry, once I explain things,_Marius thought, his heart pounding. He opened the door to the drawing room, and Monsieur Fauchelevent turned.

By the look on his face, Marius had a change of heart. Apparently yes, Monsieur Fauchelevent could be angry. Very, very angry.


	11. Customs

Marius shut the door behind him, too guilty to even say a word. Monsieur Fauchelevent just looked at him coldly for a long time, until Marius couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," he offered.

"I told you not to meddle," Valjean said shortly. Marius cringed.

"Did you hear the whole story?" he asked, hoping to maybe explain his way out.

"I did. Your grandfather just filled me in on your arrest," he said spitting out the last word like it was a curse, making it clear he didn't want to hear a word from Marius. "I never told you why you couldn't report this affair to the police- and maybe that was a mistake. However, it still must remain a secret, at least for now. Currently, we have more important business to discuss. Sit down."

Marius did as he was told, wondering what he could be talking about. However, Monsieur Fauchelevent's face did him no favors- it was cold and unreadable.

"Cosette is very upset," he said, laying down the phrase heavily. Marius' insides twisted with guilt, and he looked down, unable to meet Monsieur Fauchelevent's gaze. This altercation would have been awkward and uncomfortable in any situation- he'd never really been alone with the man before. Now, when he was here being told off for his mistake, he was feeling thoroughly pained. After a few moments of agony on Marius' part, Monsieur Fauchelevent continued. "I am going away today."

Marius blanched. He looked up, and his heart skipped a beat in terror. _Cosette is very upset. I am going away today._ He didn't comprehend the difference that the pronoun 'I' made. He only heard 'Cosette... upset... going away.'

"After how upset she was yesterday," Monsieur Fauchelevent continued, and Marius buried his face in his hands, unable to even think about the blank road that lay ahead of him. There was too much pain for him to bear- she was gone! She was leaving! How could he live without her? "She was so distraught. So I asked her if she wanted to come with me."

Marius sat up. What was this?

"She was even more offended by that. She said no, she is staying. So you will be married today, Monsieur Pontmercy."

Marius breathed a sigh of relief that seemed to come form deep inside. The day before, he knew positively that he was going to be married the next day. Those ten seconds of terror were enough to make him appreciate the event all the more.

"Why are you leaving?" he asked, now curious. Curious, but not terrified anymore. He felt incredibly guilty about it, but he felt a bit of relief in hearing that Monsieur Fauchelevent was going away. As long as he did not leave permanently, Marius thought a few weeks away from the man could do them both good. "Where are you going?"

"It is not serious," he replied evasively. "And I am going away on business, but I do not know for how long."

_Well, that settles things,_ Marius thought, slightly annoyed now. Didn't he deserve to know at least a little of the details? But then he flushed- Cosette probably thought like this yesterday when he did not show up all day.

"Does Cosette know?" he asked.

"She does," he said, with a scornful look. Marius read his annoyance instantly. Why was this man so cold to him, but so warm to Cosette? It was hard to believe that this hard, angry man was the same benevolent, loving father to Cosette. He shivered as Monsieur Fauchelevent gave him another of his stares. Without another word, Monsieur Fauchelevent stood and made his way to the door.

"I shall not see you again until after your marriage," he said, turning and looking back at Marius. "So good luck to you. Best wishes," he said distantly, and left.

Marius stood, confused and staring stupidly, until long after the man had left.

* * *

She needed to talk to Marius. She knew customs dictated otherwise, but she would have to throw those aside. Papa had left, and that alone was enough to send her into a depression. If the depression hadn't been mixed with anger and confusion, she could fully organize her emotions. Anger towards Marius, confusion about events from the day before, all mixed in with customary pre-wedding jitters. There were so many mixed up inside of her that she needed to sort a few out. And to do that, she needed to speak to Marius.

She covered her wedding dress in a garment bag and put her little white silk shoes in a leather bag along with all the necessary undergarments she woudl need to wear with the formal gown. She passively thought of how she dreaded putting those on- they seemed only to be fussy and time-consuming.

"Toussaint!" she called down the stairs of the little house when her belongings were ready. The stout woman ran up the stairs.

"I need to go to Monsieur Gillenormond's. I left the pearls behind. The ones he gave me yesterday," she said. "I need them for the wedding. I can dress there," she explained, gesturing to the pile of wedding necessities beside her. Toussaint looked at her warily, but obliged.

"I'll get a fiacre for you, Mademouiselle, and we'll leave in a few minutes."

Cosette thanked her, and found the very pearls that she had lied about and slipped them into the pocket of her skirt. Gathering everything she would need, she went downstairs. Together she and Toussaint loaded the fiacre and made their way to the Rue des Filles-du-Calvaire.

Once they made it there, Nicolette took her upstairs, near the bedrooms. Cosette had never been upstairs before, she realized, now feeling worried. How would she find Marius? She had no idea where to look. What if she knocked on Grandfather's door instead? No one would let her see Marius. But she looked around, and saw all the doors open but one. That must be where Marius was.

"Here, Mademoiselle- you can dress in this guest room," Nicolette said. Toussaint followed the two of them inside.

"I'll help you dress," Nicolette offered.

"It's _my _job," Toussaint snipped.

"Well, I'm sure you have a lot to take care of-"

"It's alright," Cosette said, breaking up the argument. "I would actually like a few minutes alone. To... collect myself. You understand?"

"Oh, yes," Nicolette said, backing off. "Just let me know if you need me, Mademoiselle."

"Or I," Toussaint said, giving Nicolette a look. They left the room, and Cosette, rolling her eyes, sat on the bed. She waited a few minutes for them to go back downstairs before daring to venture out of the room.

Finally, she slipped out and sneaked across the hallway. Taking a deep breath and hoping this was the right door, she knocked.

* * *

Marius was pacing in his bedroom, thinking deeply about his confrontation with Monsieur Fauchelevent. When a knock sounded on his door, Marius presumed it was Basque or someone of the like, with some bit of useless information.

"Enter," he said, not ceasing his pacing in front of the fireplace. He looked up in shock to see Cosette standing in his doorway.

"I know customs say it is bad luck to see your intended on the day of your wedding," she began, closing the door. "But I happen to think it's much worse to marry someone you're angry with."

She walked further in and sat down in the chair, gesturing to the one facing hers directly. He sat, wondering how on earth she got here without anyone noticing.

"I told Toussaint I left my pearls here," she explained as though she could read his mind. "But I really needed to talk to you. Please explain what happened yesterday- I had no idea where you were, and then all the sudden the police showed up. Then my father tells me this morning that he's leaving! You both have been keeping something from me- Marius, please tell me. I'm feeling bitter, and that is the last thing I want to feel today. So now. Explain," she said clearly, and he did as he was told.

* * *

**Please review this! There's more coming!**


	12. Eponine

**Hey guys- authors note here. I know Eponine is supposed to be dead, but because I created a sort of alternate universe here with Marius not going to the barricade, some things changed. Javert would have died anyway- he would have been shot by the students, because Valjean would not have saved him. However, Eponine may or may not have gone to the barricades, depending on how depressed she was feeling that night. And so I decided to write her return.**

* * *

Thenardier walked down the street, his two daughters trailing behind him like smoke behind a fire. Destruction, then it's aftermath. Sometimes the smoke caused more damage than the actual fire. But sometimes not.

"What's this?" he asked snidely, eyeing the white carriages riding down the avenue.

"Looks like a wedding," Azelma remarked. "Let's follow the carriages, so we can see the bride!"

Eponine rolled her eyes. Azelma could never completely hide her desire to be a bourgeoisie, a girl with silk dresses and pretty hairbrushes. Eponine was better at it.

But still, they followed. Thenardier trailed behind. They followed the carriages and reached the church. On a sign outside, these words were written in curly hand: "Celebrate the wedding of Monsieur Marius Pontmercy and Mademouselle Cosette Fauchelevent."

Eponine stepped back, dizzy for a second, hitting the man behind her. "'Scuse," she whispered, and closed her eyes. So it really was over then. As if it had even started.

"We don't know them," Azelma said loudly, abashedly.

But her father was shaking his head. "Cosette.... not a common name. It has to be her!"

Eponine looked at him curiously. What was he planning?

Just then, she saw the crowd in front of the church part. Through it came none other than Marius Pontmercy, looking straight ahead at the church doors, as though nothing could distract him from the coming event. Eponine knew bitterly that nothing could distract him- he loved Cosette as he had never loved her, Eponine. She didn't want him to see her here, like this. A handsome, lucky man like him shouldn't see the likes of her on his wedding day. So she stepped easily into the crowd, hidden from his view and lost among the onlookers.

"It's him!" Thenardier spat. "No!" he cried. Eponine looked at him in worry- if he went after Cosette, he would go after Marius. "He knows too much... this has to be stopped."

"Father, you can't stop the wedding," she said anxiously. "Someone in there will recognize you."

"Not like that, silly girl- never mind," he said, grabbing Azelma by the arm and dragging his daughters out of the crowd. "Come. We're leaving."

But just before they left the scene of the wedding, the other carriage opened its doors. Though Eponine knew it would only hurt more, she looked anyway. There was Cosette, looking beautiful and angelic, as she always did. Well, not always. Eponine smiled despicably, knowing that once, Cosette had not been so beautiful.

* * *

**Three Weeks Later**

Cosette was wandering through the dark forest, looking behind tree after tree. Somehow she knew that behind one of them was something wonderful, and behind another was something terrible. As she passed more and more vacant hiding places, her sense of foreboding increased exponentially. She began to fear that the wonderful thing wasn't there at all, and she was alone in the cold. She shivered, and then she was beneath the dining room table, teeth chattering as she sat chewing on a chicken bone. The dog next to her was growling for her to give up her measly dinner. She crawled out from underneath the table, and suddenly a man's face was glaring at her, reaching for her...! Suddenly, she was back in the forest, the ropes cutting into her wrists again, the man's breath vile and hot against her face-

She jerked awake, sweat covering her body and her heart beating fast. She wiped the tears from her cheeks anxiously. _It's only a dream,_ she thought. She couldn't make sense of the images- they were just confusing frightening fantasies her mind made up, giving her nightmares. The more she thought of them, the more the dreams slipped away, until she couldn't remember any of the details anymore.

Comforted, she looked about the bedroom. By the light of the fireplace, she could see bits and pieces of the decor. The chair next to the hearth, the bookshelf in the corner. The open door, leading to the hallway, black and cavernous in the night.

Wait- what? Why was the door open? She was almost positive they'd closed it the night before.

Scanning the room for something else that was amiss, her heart lept in fear. There was absolutely, undeniably, the shadow of a man reflected against the window. Her heart, which had only just calmed, was now thumping in her chest. Trying to be as quiet as she could, she turned over and faced Marius, still sleeping.

As slowly as she could so as to not disturb the blankets and make a rustle, she shook his shoulder. As soon as his eyes fluttered open, she put her hand against his lips. Then she looked over at the window.

Following her eyes, Marius saw the intruder.

Instantly he sat up.

_No!_ she wanted to cry, but didn't know why. Would they be more protected if they just acted like they were asleep? It seemed silly, but she still remembered what he papa had told her: _you're always safe in your bed, Cosette._ Suddenly it didn't seem so safe anymore.

"Who's there?" Marius said aloud, reaching for one of the silver candlesticks sitting on the bedside table next to him. They'd taken them from her father's house after he left on his journey, just as he had requested Cosette to do. Marius was grateful for them now. They were heavy- could easily knock a man out.

Marius rose from the bed, motioning for Cosette to stay put.

The man faced him, but did not utter a word. He was large and looked vaguely familiar to Marius, who could not place him.

"Don't move," the man growled at Marius, who ran at him anyway. The man grabbed Marius by the forearms and, twisting, threw him to the ground in the other direction, so that now he stood between Marius and Cosette. The man looked down at Marius, and from the shadow cast by the window, Cosette could see he was holding a knife.

Blinking tears from her eyes, she tried to block the panic from overtaking her. She could not think if she was panicking this way. She watched Marius kick blindly and come in connection with the man's shins, but knew it was no use. She hated to, but she turned her eyes away, searching in the darkness and trying to be as quiet as possible. Finally her hand came in contact with her desired object. Cool silver touched her hand, and she sighed in relief. The other candlestick, sitting on the bedside table to her left,was exactly what she needed.

Glad her feet were bare, she crept as silently as possible, glad that Marius did not see her. He would look at her, or acknowledge her in some way, and ruin her only chance. Luckily she made it close enough to him without the man seeing her. And, as quickly as she could so she would not lose her nerve, she raised the candlestick over her head. Marius eyes caught the glint of the silver, and they widened just before the candlestick came in contact with the man's head, knocking him out cold. He fell to the ground, dropping his knife. It scittered across the floor and was hidden somewhere beneath the bed.

Her heart was pounding- she'd never injured someone before. It had never even occured to her. Now she worried that she'd done something terrible.

She looked at Marius in fear, who smiled.

"Cosette... that was..." he couldn't finish, just shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you did that!"

She shook her head, burying her face in her hands. "I just hit someone in the head! I knocked him out! I-"

"You saved our lives!" he cried, drawing her into an embrace and laughing out loud in relief. She relaxed a little, letting out a nervous laugh. "Come, Cosette- let's go downstairs and finish this," he said. "We'll... call the police."

"Please don't let them talk to me," she begged.

"I'll try," he said, not knowing whether or not he could keep his promise.

They went downstairs, now only quiet so as not to wake the rest of the house. Marius put a chair in front of the bedroom door, locking it closed so the man could not get out when he came to. They crept into the kitchen, and were going to enter the servants quarters to rouse Basque when Marius saw something stir out in the garden. Something in the bushes caught his eye. Craning his neck to see out the window, he saw motion again.

"Shh," he said, reaching for Cosette and making her stop moving. There it was again- someone was definitely moving in the garden

Just like that, he heard a lock click from the back door- the other direction. Someone was coming inside.

Cosette gasped, looking at Marius with wide eyes- he hated this. There was nothing he could do to help her- there was someone at the back door, someone in the garden- who knew how many others there were? Cosette was scared, and he hated knowing he couldn't make her feel better.

"Come this way," he said, reaching for her hand and leading towards the front door. Quietly, he found her cloak and his coat, and kicked her shoes towards her. In their dressing gowns, they weren't exactly adequately dressed to go out in December, but did it matter? Not at this moment. Survival was more important than propriety. He thought fleetingly of his grandfather and aunt asleep upstairs, but something told him they were in no danger. He looked at Cosette and dreaded the feeling that came through him, the feeling that _she_ was the one they were after. What interest did these brutal man have in his gentle wife? He only shivered, imagining.

Just then, the knob on the front door jiggled right in front of them. Cosette jumped, squealing quietly and covering her mouth with her hand. Thank God it was locked, but the glass on the door wouldn't hold long. They couldn't go out that way any longer.

Without missing another moment, Marius grabbed Cosette's hand and led her away from the door, towards a room with an open window. Hopefully they could climb through and get out that way.

As they turned towards the first floor hallway, he looked down it carefully. A man was creeping at the end of the hallway, this one tall and thin and bald. Marius' stomach filled with fear- they were being herded into the center of the house.

"Come this way!" a voice whispered. He turned, and didn't see anyone.

"There!" Cosette whispered, pointing. He saw the thin figure of a girl motioning towards them, almost hidden in the darkness, and he followed. As he got closer, he realized it was Eponine Thenardier. He hadn't spoken to her in months. She used to sit in the rue Plumet during his visits to Cosette's house at night. Ever since the incident- the one with her father- she hadn't returned.

He instinctively took a step back, drawing Cosette behind him protectively.

"Don't be a fool!" Eponine whispered in her crackly voice. "Come with me, or you'll both be dead by the end of the night."

Marius gave a short shake of his head. "I know what your father did to her," he said angrily. "Why should I trust you?"

"You should know I despise my father. He's a selfish pig. Come with me now, or it'll be too late."

"Go, Marius!" Cosette cried, tears streaming down her face. He had to make a decision, but Cosette's desperation made it for him. They had one chance.

"Let's go," he said, and followed Eponine out the backdoor, through their deserted garden, and out onto the streets of Paris.


	13. Just In Case

As they ran down the street, Marius wondered where they were going. He had not the faintest idea.

After they were far from their home, Eponine turned. She didn't know if Marius would put any stock in what she was about to say, but it was worth a try. "I might only have room to hide one," she said, looking at him meaningfully.

He glared at her. "Fine. Then take Cosette to safety."

Cosette looked at him in fear, but Eponine turned back around. She was right- of course he wouldn't abandon the girl. Sighing, she gave up her last shred of hope.

"I'm sure there's room for two."

Finally they reached the door of a church.

"I've hidden here before- even my father wouldn't dare attack someone in the house of God," she whispered, and opened the door for them. They followed her through, and she led them to a booth people used for Confession. It was three in the morning, and the church was deserted. Eponine pulled the curtain open and indicated that they go into it.

"I'll come get you when it's safe," she said. "But I don't know if you can go back to your house."

Cosette raised her eyebrows. "Why couldn't we go back? They'll rob us, maybe, but what else could they want?"

Eponine shook her head. "Madame- I'm sure they will rob you, but that is not what they are after."

"What does he want?" Marius asked coldly.

"Both of you, dead. I don't know why- I heard him say something once. 'He knows too much.' Then he planned a stake-out tonight."

Marius' head spun. So Thenardier would kill him, to end the risk of being caught. He tightened his grip around Cosette, who was shaking beside him.

"What're we to do?" Cosette whispered.

Eponine shrugged her shoulders. "I'll return soon," she said, and ran away, disappearing as the curtain closed. Instantly they were in blackness.

"What's going on?" Cosette asked. "Who was that?"

Marius couldn't hide it from her any longer. "That was Eponine Thenardier."

_Eponine Thenardier... _Cosette thought. The name stirred something.

"Her father was the one who broke into our house. Her father and his minions," Marius spat.

Cosette remembered Marius' words from before- '_I know what your father did to her.'_

She shivered. "Was he the one who... who...?"

"Yes."

She slid down in the booth, sitting against the ground. Marius sat down next to her and she hid her face against his shoulder, even though it was already too dark to see it anything.

"And he knows that you know he did it?" she asked, putting two and two together.

"Yes, I think so."

_The Lark. Eponine Thenardier. Thenardier... Thenardier..._

"Pretty like Eponine," Cosette whispered.

"What?" Marius asked. He didn't know what Cosette was talking about- why would she call Eponine pretty, or even apply an endearment to her at all? They'd just met.

"Eponine... little Eponine. I remember that somehow... From long ago. I think I knew a girl named Eponine once. And Thenardier sounds familiar, too..."

He didn't mention it, but this made sense. Back a year ago in the Gorbeau tenement, Marius remembered Thenardier talking about 'the lark,' as though he knew Cosette. Maybe she was with him when she was younger. He cringed at the very thought of it.

"Where are we to go?" she whispered.

"I have no idea," he said, feeling around in his pockets. He hated feeling so helpless, driven out of his home and safety by the same man who'd turned their lives upside-down.

Sighing, she just sat closer to him, gripping his hand in the darkness, their breathing shallow and scared. She closed her eyes, and thought of how her father always had a solution to problems like this. It was almost as though he'd planned that they would need to flee one day. Whatever the reason, he'd always known what to do. They had meeting places around the city for if they ever got separated. They had three places to live, just in case. And one day, he'd had her sew keys to all of them into them of her cloak.

_Just in case,_ he'd said when she gave him a curious look. _You never know when you're going to need a safe place to stay._

She sat up. This cloak, the one she was wearing, had three keys sewn into the bottom of it. Keys to the house on the rue Plumet and the apartments in the Rue de l'Ouest and the Rue de l'Homme-Arme.

"Marius, I know where we can go," she said.

"Where?" he said. "We can't go home, and I didn't take any money for a room somewhere-"

She tugged her cloak, searching for the bottom.

"Get up for a minute," she said. "You're sitting on my cloak."

"Oh, sorry," he said, moving so it came free.

"It's alright. So, two years ago, when I bought this cloak, my father made me sew extra keys into the bottom of it. 'Just in case you ever get lost,' he said. I didn't think I'd ever need them, but here you go!"

"You're making this up," Marius said. It was hard to believe that a perfect solution was right here, so easy.

"No," she said. "I just need to rip the stitching out a little, and I've got three keys. We can't go to the Rue Plumet-he knows about that place. But we have two other apartments where we'd go- you know about this. Remeber when I told you that we moved every six months to different place sin Paris? You noticed it when we moved out of the apartment in the rue de l'Ouest."

Marius was shaking his head in disbelief. "This is perfect," he said.

She felt the hem, and found where the three keys were sewn in. She started pulling at the fabric, blindly ripping at the seam. In the dark, she couldn't find the thread.

Hearing her struggle, Marius reached for the cloak. "Here, let me," he said, and ripped it open. Into his hands fell three small, metal objects.

"Which one are we closest to?" she asked, describing where each of the apartments was. Being so scared, she hadn't paid any attention as to what church they were hiding in.

"Rue de l'Ouest," Marius said. "Once we get clearance, we'll go there. We can stay for the night- or day, I guess; it's night now- and then get some money from the bank. We'll go somewhere safe tomorrow night."

"Make sure to write a letter warning grandfather about this," she said. "And tell him we're safe." She bit her lip, hoping it would be true in the morning.

It was impossible to say how long they waited- it was pitch black in their hiding place, and the curtain made it hot and stuffy. There was no room to move, and their legs cramped up and their feet fell asleep. It was thoroughly uncomfortable, so naturally time passed more slowly.

Finally, when Marius was beginning to wonder if Eponine was really coming back for them, he heard the doors of the church open. No footsteps could be heard, but he hadn't expected them- bare feet were silent on marble.

The curtain fluttered open, and the grubby face of Eponine Thenardier looked down on them.

"It's all clear," she said in her gravely voice. "You're safe, for now. But don't go home. They've got the place on watch."

"Where else are they?" Marius asked her, hoping the route he was planning on taking was free.

She named the spots where the gang frequented, but it seemed safe enough.

"Where are you going?" she asked curiously, wondering if they were in a sort of bond now, because she'd helped them. Maybe she could see him once in awhile- she didn't dare hope. All it did was cut the wound deeper. Still, seeing him was all she'd need- just a glimpse once in a while.

Marius looked at her coldly. "I don't know if I should tell you. You've been wonderful, Eponine, but I think our location should stay with us. Just in case," he added.

_Just in case what?_ She wanted to shout. _I tell my father? I betray you? I act like the untrustworthy wretch you think I am? _She took a step back, trying not to show how his words felt like a blow to the chest. No matter what she did, she was nothing more than the scum of the street. She couldn't even be a friend.

When she turned away from Marius, her eyes fell on his wife. She expected a fearful look. She expected her to be afraid. Surely a little sugared bon-bon like Madame Pontmercy would be threatened by someone dirty and rough like Eponine. But to her surprise, Cosette looked warmly at her. Much more warmly than her husband had. She took a step forward and took Eponine's brown, scabbed hands in her own smooth white ones. Her eyes were sad, round and blue, and full of pity. Eponine's insides twisted. She didn't want her pity.

"Eponine," she said, saying her name carefully. Eponine wondered if she remembered them together as children. "Do you need a place to stay? If you're afraid of your father, if he's ever... _done _things to you, well... You saved our lives tonight, Mademoiselle, and the least we can do is give you somewhere safe to-"

"No thank you, Madame," she said, drawing her hands back. "But that was very gracious of you. Something a Baroness should do."

"I'm not doing it because I'm a Baroness," Cosette said sadly, looking at the forlorn girl in front of her. She was half-dressed, shivering, and with sickly-thin. Cosette had never seen anyone so pitiful.

"Fine. Then you're doing it because you really are as kind as I feared," Eponine said. "Now go- there isn't much time."

"Goodbye, Eponine," Marius said, taking Cosette's hand. "Thank you."

Cosette looked back once more, her eyes full of worry. Eponine turned away, and did not watch them leave.

Eponine hated to be pitied. It felt like an afterthought- pity never really did any good.

But, the more she thought about it, she knew that Cosette _had _tried to do something good. She'd wanted to help her. And somehow, Cosette's help was more insulting than anyone else's pity. Was it because Cosette had ended up with everything Eponine wanted?

She could say that. She could say it was jealousy that drove her to this pain. But Eponine knew better. Cosette's help hurt because Eponine didn't deserve it. All those years ago, when Cosette had needed help, Eponine hadn't lifted a finger, didn't say a word.

The realization that the Baroness- the beautiful, rich, beloved Cosette- might be a better person was a devastating one. It was a wound that cut deeper than the jealousy itself.

As she went and sat in one of the pews, she remembered of more of Cosette's words. With wonderment, she realized something.

It was the first time anyone had called her Mademoiselle.


	14. Hiding

Cosette opened the closet door, and took out the blankets and sheets. She began making the bed as Marius set up a fire in the hearth. Since no one had lived in this apartment for well over a year, it was cold and covered in a layer of dust. Other than that, it was quite inhabitable. Finally, she opened up the trunk in the bedroom, where old clothing was stored. She found a dress for herself and some petticoats, along with one of her father's shirts and a pair of pants.

"They'll be large on you," she said to Marius, holding up the clothing in front of her to get a better idea. "But they'll do."

She folded the clothes and set them on top of the trunk, yawning. It really was exhausting to run about the city in the middle of the night. Standing, she closed the curtains tight. The sun was beginning to come up, and they needed to sleep. With the thick fabric covering the windows, the room was almost dark enough for it to be nighttime.

"There," she said, and Marius stood. The fire was now crackling away, and she could feel its effects on her legs. She finally began to feel warm, and removed her coat and Marius', then set them to join their shoes on the floor. They were in her old bedroom, the one with the tiny bed and the stark furniture. Almost falling down in exhaustion, they collapsed onto the little bed, burrowing into the covers. There was not much space on the mattress, but they didn't mind- they just clung resolutely to each other, determined not to let anything come between them. As sleep overtook her in this anonymous apartment, Cosette finally began to feel safe.

* * *

"They've run," Thenardier growled. "They must have had a tip-off."

His men grumbled their agreements, Babet rubbing the spot on his head where he'd been hit with the candlestick.

"I can't believe the little wench could hit that hard," he said, his head aching.

No one answered.

"Just check on the old man and the woman," he said. Two of his men went back into the room where the two were tied to a chair, terrified but unharmed. They leered at the poor souls, who shook with fear. However, they were not the targets, so they had been left alone.

"Let them be. Now let's take what we can while we're here, then move out."

They stuffed all that they could see into burlap sacks, and then headed towards the door. Right before they reached it, it opened, revealing Eponine. A terrified look crossed her face as she saw them.

"I was just... keeping a lookout," she stammered, her eyes huge. She looked guilty, and Thenardier narrowed his already tiny eyes at her.

Thenardier walked towards her and gripped her hard on the arm, jerking her towards him.

"I don't believe you," he whispered, dreadfully close. "You know what happens when you lie to me!" he bellowed.

She pulled her arm away, straightening herself up. "I'm not afraid of you," she said, her eyes narrow. "Go find someone who is!"

"Where were you? Did you tip them off?" Thenardier growled. Eponine stayed silent. "You brat. You little bitch!"

She turned away, looking at the floor. "Look, dearest Papa," she spat. "It doesn't matter what I did, but I would clear out of here right away, because it's only a matter of time before the police show up."

"You little-!"

She held up a hand. "I did nothing," she said, and before he could catch her, she'd run out the door and disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

That afternoon, Marius had gone out to get some money and food, then send a letter to his grandfather like Cosette had suggested. When he was on his way back, he was surprised- and not altogether pleased- to see Eponine Thenardier coming towards him on the street.

"Oh," he said, trying to feign excitement. "Hello there."

"Hello, Monsieur Marius," she said wistfully.

"Is the house safe? Are they gone?" he asked, hoping he could return home with Cosette.

"Yes, they've gone. But I wouldn't go back just yet," she warned. "They're not after your belongings, remember."

He sighed.

"Eponine, what can we do?"

She shrugged her thin shoulders. "I don't know why you'd want to take my advice, Monsieur Marius."

He closed his eyes in frustration. "Do you want to help us or not?" he glared.

"I helped you yesterday!" she said angrily. "It doesn't do you much good to have help from a woman like me anyhow, Monsieur."

He sadly looked at the ground, and she gave in, like she always did.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"To go home. To be safe- for Cosette to be safe. Can you help me with that, Eponine?"

She considered for a moment. If she gave in, she'd be throwing her father in jail. Her father with a death sentence over his head. But on the other hand, she despised her father, and knew he was a wicked man.

"I don't know if I can stand to have him arrested, Monsieur. He is my father," she said.

He turned red with anger. "It's no more than he deserves!"

"Monsieur!" she begged. "Is there something else- _anything_ else?"

Marius thought carefully. "Just get him away from us. Away from Cosette. If that's the best you can do, then I suppose I'll have to live with it."

She looked him straight in the face for a long moment, pondering where her father could go. Marius met her eyes, then turned away, embarrassed, when she did not avert her gaze.

He looked up again a few moments later, unnerved to see that she was still looking at him. She took a step forward, her hand outstretched as though she was going to touch his face. He instinctively took a step back.

"Eponine... would you like to come eat with us?" he said, trying to make amends as best he could. If she wanted food, he'd give it to her. After all, he and Cosette probably wouldn't be alive, had it not been for her. She took another step forward. Now she was standing directly in front of him, her eyes staring into his. His heart picked up speed- she was making him so thoroughly uncomfortable. Then, she brought her hand up and brushed his hair from his eyes.

Quickly, she stepped away. "No, Monsieur. I can't say that good things would happen if I dined with you and your wife."

Then she gave an awkward little curtsy and bow, turned, and left.

"Wait!" Marius cried. "Are you going to help us?"

But she didn't look back. He began to wonder if she really was human, or just a ghost.

* * *

"I've got news, father," she said curtly. "He wants you out- that's the best I could do."

"Are you on our side or off it?" he asked. She didn't answer. "How'd you speak to him, then? Did he finally look at you?"

She looked away, turning red. He laughed his wheezy, airy laugh.

"Thought not. Though if he did, I don't think he'd like what he saw!"

Eponine ignored him, ignored how his words echoed her already realized fears. "He said he wants you away from here, away from her. The girl. If you do that, he said he'll give up on the police."

Thenardier looked at his daughter carefully. "You sure he's telling the truth? We can't take chances."

She shrugged- she had no way to tell if he had been lying to her.

"Try and get some money, and we'll flee somewhere. With all that silver and china and some money from those filthy bourgeoisie, we might to able to finally make a life. See what you can do," he grumbled, "or you're out of it. You'll finally be turned out onto the street like we should've done years ago. You can beg for money in a way more appropriate for you, you little slut!"

He continued grumbling the insults, but Eponine had left, gone to fantasy world.

So no, Marius never would care for her, never look her way. The only time she was ever useful was when she was taking care of his precious little Cosette. And her father wanted her out- dead, most likely. It seemed no one cared for her.

She stared out the broken window of their garret and shivered in the cold. If no one wanted her, then she'd just have to fulfill her purpose and leave. Best not overstay your welcome. But first, she'd have to help Monsieur Marius. For even if he didn't care for her, he'd still offered her bread. And that was more than her father had done.

* * *

That evening when Marius returned, he and Cosette spoke very few words. Hiding out in the little apartment where no one knew them, no one knew where they were, well... It had a strange effect on the two lovers. Though everything in their marriage was still so new (being only three weeks old itself), changes like this seemed to give a taste of novelty to their already fresh relationship. Though the reason for their hiding was frightening, Cosette could not shake the romantic feeling she had about it. They were abolsutely, positively alone, with no limitations on anything whatsoever. It was just the two of them, holed up in the tiny apartment, with nothing familiar but the other one. And nothing but this closeness with Marius, this protection that he tried with everything he had to give her, could make her feel safe. So, needless to say, they were enjoying their alone time. For even in their home, they lived with grandfather and aunt Gillenormond, who seemed to have a knack for killing oppurtune moments. Being alone like this was something they both sought after, and did not waste.

At around ten, when they were resting awake in each other's arms, they heard the door open. Marius sat up, keeping an arm around Cosette. He hushed her, then quickly dressed, handing her garments quickly. Once they were clothed, he opened the door and looked into the entrance hallway at their intruder.

He wrinkled his eyebrow when he saw the man in the hall. He was not supposed to be here! He'd said he was away! Surely...

Cosette had come up behind him.

"Papa?" she whispered in amazement.


	15. Water and Tears

"Papa! I thought you were away!" Cosette cried, surprising the old man. Marius subtly shut the door to the bedroom- the one that all too clearly demonstrated that its main purpose, for the last night at least, had not been sleeping.

"What are you doing here?" he cried, his eyes wide. Marius didn't blame him- they'd probably startled him.

"We're hiding," he answered, then quickly explained their situation.

"You always told me that I would never know when I needed a safe place to go!" Cosette cried, obviously deliriously happy to be seeing her father again. "Thank goodness I had those keys."

Monsieur Fauchelevent didn't answer, just sighed deeply and sat down in a plain wooden chair. Then, he murmured something. "These troubles... they never leave me."

* * *

"Now get out!" he yelled, slapping her across the face. Eponine clutched her burning cheek and, with tears in her eyes, ran out onto the street. Her feet instantly went numb from the cold cobblestones, but she had nowhere to go. However, she knew one thing- she wouldn't go back home. Or wherever 'home' was. She wasn't going back to her father.

He was evil, she decided. Evil, a criminal, a murderder, and she suspected much more. And she was done with evil. Frankly, as she looked around at the grim streets, she found that she was ready to be done with it all. Everything. It was so obvious she was suffering- her shoulders bare, starving and shivering- yet no one came forward to help. No one looked at her.

Suddenly, she wished she'd accept Monsieur Marius' offer to eat with them. But maybe that was just the hunger talking.

Whatever it was, she was sick of it. Oh, yes, she'd been tired of life before, but not like this. There was no hope in sight. Her father was never going to strike gold, never going to become rich. She would never have a truly full stomach, and never have Monsieur Marius. So what hope was there? Could she really stand to wander the streets this way, forever? If she did, it would only be a matter of time before someone found her. Raped her, murdered her. Well, she might as well beat them to the punch, and hurt herself beyond repair before someone else did.

Yes, that was what she would. Nodding her head, she moved forward. But first, she had something to take care of.

She only wished she knew where Monsieur Marius was. It would be nice for him to know that she'd tried to help.

* * *

It had all been set. She'd written a note on stolen paper with a stolen pen (for one never really could escape being brought up by thieves) and tipped off the police. She'd snuck back only long enough to warn her sister. Her father might be scum, but her sister couldn't help it. She ran with Azelma into the safety of the dark streets.

"Where am I to go?" Azelma asked, her eyes frightened and angry. "You can't turn father in! Don't act like you're better than us, 'Ponine-"

"Hush!" she warned, holding a hand over her sister's mouth. "I got you out of there, didn't I? Now shut your mouth."

It was done. There was nothing she could do to stop the effects which she'd already set in motion. Nothing she could do as, from the shadows, she watched the police enter the garret and come down with her father. Nothing she could do as they sped away. And nothing she could do as she came to realization that she'd just killed her own father.

She despised him- he was scum to her, and had never treated her anything but ill. But her stomach churned, knowing she'd turned him in. She would have rather killed him herself, with her own hands. Turning him in like this felt cowardly. Eponine looked at her hands, brown and tough from work, scabbed from the cold. Who was she trying to fool? No matter how she tried to act like a good person- someone who reports criminals, helps out innocent people- she would never be one. She was a thief, deep down. A girl of the streets, picking people's pockets, begging for food. She'd tried to fool herself as long as she dared, but the gig was up. She'd just turned her own father in, and nothing had changed. No one had come and congratulated her, no one had thanked her. Now, all she was left with was an angry sister, an empty stomach, and no income. That, and guilt eating away in her stomach.

She'd wait until morning, she decided. Then it would be over.

* * *

As daylight dawned in the apartment, Marius went out again. He needed a break from Cosette's frightened tears- ones he could do nothing to stop- and Monsieur Fauchelevent's steely stares. He returned to the market where he was the previous day, just wandering for a few hours. He was aware that walking around aimlessly in broad daylight wasn't the smartest idea, especially for people in hiding, but the apartment was now virtually uninhabitable for him.

Now, this aimless walking turned out to be a blessing in disguise. A dirty, thin, wretched and pitiful disguise.

"Monsieur Marius!" came a hoarse voice that he knew all to well.

He turned and saw a face that he wasn't sure how to react to. She was overly personal and made him uncomfortable, and yet she'd only ever helped him. So he only had grateful feelings for her. Then he remembered their conversation from the previous day- the one where she'd been elusive about whether or not she would help him and Cosette.

"Eponine!" he said, instantly brightening, curious about her decision. "Eponine, did you think more about... about-"

"It's done," she said, her hands raised, palms towards him.

"What's done?" he asked, confused.

"Everything," she said, looking at the ground, crestfallen. He took a step forward and, on impulse, but his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him in surprise, some spark in her eyes that he couldn't read. She looked up at him as though he was brighter than the sun, and he had to turn away. Her gaze was too private, too revealing to stare into. He could see right into her soul, and it was a broken sight.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and she smiled. It was not a happy smile, but rather a smile to cover up her true feelings. A mask.

"Nothing," she said. "But your home is now safe for you and your beautiful wife. You can return today, if you'd like. There is no one watching over it, and my father won't be bothering you again."

"What? Eponine, what did you do?" he asked, smiling. Once again, she'd come through. Why did he ever doubt her?

"I turned him in," she said, pushing his hands from her shoulders. "I turned my own father in, for you!"

She took a step back, squinting her eyes to look at him closer, and looking angry. Her eyes sparkled with something he couldn't identify- regret? anger? disappointment?

"So long... I've _wasted..._ on... on _this!_" she whispered, talking to herself. "_For nothing in return!"_

He knew she wasn't talking to him, but he replied anyway.

"Eponine- not nothing. You've been more than helpful. You've been a savior. We'll take care of you, Cosette and I. We'll give you money- we'll feed you. You won't want again," he said, stopping short of offering for her to live with them. Even in the heights of his gratitude, he couldn't bear to go that far.

"I don't want your money!" she spat. "I told you once- didn't you hear me? And I don't want your help, either. That wasn't what I meant," she said, looking as though she wanted him to understand something. He didn't.

"I'm going to leave now," she said with an air of finality in her voice. "We won't meet again."

"What- Eponine-"

"Monsieur Marius, before I go, can you do something for me?"

"Anything," he said, just to get her to keep talking.

"Before I go, just look at me. _See _me. Please," she said, her eyes wide. He looked, but he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking for. He met her eyes, and they were pleading. He stared for a long time, but all he saw was the pitiful girl who'd helped him so much. He wanted to help in return, but thus far she'd refused everything he offered.

"I..." he uttered, letting the word hang as he realized he had nothing to follow it with. He looked again, but saw nothing new.

"You. Always you," she whispered, then looked at him. "I thought I saw you. I should have realized you'd never see me."

Then she departed, leaving him confused. However, he only waited a few moments before returning home to Cosette.

* * *

It wasn't hard. She always thought drowning in a river would be too cold, but as she drifted, it wasn't bad at all. Kind of calming, actually. No one was yelling at her. The water was stuffed into her ears, blocking all sounds out. She heard no one whispering about her, insulting her. She felt nothing but the soft water against her skin, not the blows people had dealt her. She felt warm, despite the chill of the water. As she closed her eyes, she felt a peacefulness overtake her unlike anything she'd ever known. Then, as she sighed out her remaining air, leaving herself to drown, she knew that this death was so much more satisfying than life had been. Here, finally, she was at peace.

* * *

"You must come with us!" Cosette cried, tears once again falling from her eyes. Marius wondered when they would ever stop.

"No," her father said, stony and decided, yet sad all the same. "I am not a part of your life anymore."

"You don't _want _to be!" she cried. "I want you to be- Marius wants you to be, don't you Marius?"

"You're always welcome in our home," he said, managing to tell the truth. He didn't exactly answer her question, but his reply seemed to satisfy.

"Am I?" Monsieur Fauchelevent asked, staring Marius deeply in the eyes. Marius shuddered- maybe he could see right through him. "You have moved on. I am the same."

Cosette sniffled, wiping her tears. "Father- I don't know what's gotten into you. You were the same kind man that you were one day, and the next-"

"The past caught up with me, my darling child. I can't run forever, but I have to try as long as I can. However, I can't bring you further into this battle that I'm fighting, Cosette. You have someone else to care for you now."

She looked at him, utterly confused. Marius couldn't say he had any clearer of an idea.

"There are things that happen to men, Cosette, that you shouldn't hear about. Bad things, bad men. I am sorry to say that there is evil in the world-"

"I know that, Father. I would like to say I know that better than any of you, here-"

"It is not the same, Cosette, when you are the man. When you are evil."

She glared at him, taking his hands in her own. "You are not evil, papa. You are good. I know you are good!"

He disengaged himself. "Goodbye, Cosette."

He waved a hand, and Cosette stood, dejected and crying. When it became clear that he was serious and really wanted them to leave, Marius reached for Cosette's hand and began to pull her along. He was about to shut the door when Cosette turned around.

"I don't know what's wrong, Papa, but I know you are not evil. When you choose to stop acting this way, please come back. Please stay with us, because I don't want to lose you," she said. "Please?" she whispered, but he turned away. She nodded sadly, and followed Marius out the door, tears falling down her cheeks. But she wasn't the only one crying- back in the apartment, Jean Valjean covered his mouth with his hand, trying to keep his sobs quiet so she could not hear from behind the door. He tears fell thick onto his waistcoat, until the whole room grew blurry, and all the colors ran together.


End file.
